


Her Wedding, His Funeral

by naarna



Series: Love Actually [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Christmas, Community: dramione_remix, Cue Cards, Drunk Draco, F/M, Love Actually References, Love Confessions, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Unrequited Love, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 03:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7741774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naarna/pseuds/naarna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione gets married, but not to the right man as Draco thinks...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Wedding, His Funeral

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Love Actually](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/220768) by Richard Curtis. 



> This remix is based on the pairing Mark/Juliet from the film "Love Actually" by Richard Curtis. In the film, Mark is the character that helps organising Juliet's wedding with his best friend, though he is deeply in love with her himself. He is the one in the film who confesses his love to Juliet with the help of cue cards.
> 
> Thanks to Ashley (consultingcriminal on H&V) for beta reading my Remix stories - the corrections and the feedback are hightly appreciated! :-)

**At her wedding**  
It was her wedding. Her wedding! Hers! And he wasn't the groom, but that bloody dense prick of a redhead had beaten him to it and was now grinning like an idiot who won some first prize in a competition. That prick doesn't even realise how fucking lucky he is to have Hermione. Getting drunk made it somewhat bearable for the moment, seeing the love of his fucking miserable life now married to that prick, happily dancing on the floor, being swept around in her cream-coloured dress that looked so gorgeous on her. So bloody gorgeous.

In his drunken state, Draco didn't notice that he was joined at the lonely table in the back of the room where he was nurturing his miserable mood with a generous amount of wine according to the bottles on the table. He had chosen to sit in the back of the room because he didn't want to ruin her day; however miserable he might feel now, he still wanted her to be happy, and happy she looked.

“Are you okay, Draco?” It was Luna who had discreetly joined him at the table. “You haven't been sitting with us at the wedding.”

He just shook his head, and took another gulp from his wine glass.

“Want to talk about it? You know I won't tell anyone.”

He shook his head again. No, he didn't want to talk about how the supposedly best day in _her_ life was turning out to be _his_ worst and most miserable one.

“Okay,” she whispered in her usual calm voice.

Draco liked her for her unassuming, yet very perceptive manner, and he was secretly glad that it was her who had joined him at his table. She knew when talking was unnecessary while everybody else would have badgered him by now about why he looked so miserable. He sighed, and tried to look at Luna for a moment; she was one of the bridesmaids, and was thus wearing a beautifully fitting blue dress, which she had decorated in her own rather unique way. Even in his rather inebriated state, Draco could see why Neville was usually rather smitten when around her. He saw her smile gently, and thank Merlin, there was no pity in it; he wouldn't have been able to stand pity. No, he didn't want pity. Pity was for the weak.

Luna didn't leave the table. She was known in the group to care for everyone equally, always having an eye out for those in need of an ear and shoulder; and apparently she thought that today, he was the one needing a shoulder. However, when he had finished what looked like his third bottle and was about to open the forth one standing on his table, she used the moment to change her approach – she took the bottle in one hand, and grabbed his hand in her other. “Come with me. You've suffered enough.” And she led the rather swaying Draco quietly, and without much protest from his side, out of the room. “What's your room number?”

“199.” Draco was sure that she knew why he had chosen that room number, for Hermione's birthday, but she wasn't one to comment on things like that. Feeling now a bit woozy, and slightly disoriented, he let her guide him to his room, hoping that he would get the bottle of wine back once they reached it.

Once they reached the room, Luna took his hand to hold against the magical scanner, as the door would only open to the current inhabitant's handprint. Inside, she let him sit on the bed, putting the bottle on the nearby table. “Lift your feet, I'm going to take your shoes off.”

“N-No. Just leave me alone.”

Luna looked up from her kneeling position she was in to take his shoes off. “No. I'm not going to leave you alone right now. You look like you’re having one of your worst days, and I'd be a bad friend to leave you alone.”

With that, he lifted his feet so that she could pull his shoes off. When she was finished, she sat down next to him, and gazed at him for a moment before she started fumbling in that little purse she had with her. “Take this, it'll help with your head when you wake up again.” She offered him a little vial filled with a brownish-looking liquid.

Draco reluctantly took it in his hand, but only started to play with it.

“Take it, no need to add a murderous hangover to your list of sufferings.”

“Later, maybe,” he murmured.

She nodded, and shifted into a more comfortable position, trying to cross her legs as she usually would, without revealing too much in that rather restricting dress of hers. She watched him play with the vial for a moment, as if she wanted to give him time to calm down a bit; she never was one to press anyone into telling her what was upsetting them; instead she waited while offering the opportunity to talk to someone.

Draco thought that the brownish-looking liquid very much had the colour of _her_ eyes; it was the same warm brown that had always deepened whenever she had looked at him, and that had always melted his heart. She wasn't going to look at him like that anymore; no, that look was now solely reserved for that lucky prick she now called husband.

“It's her, isn't it?” she finally asked quietly.

He nodded after a long moment, feeling his heart break all over again; he didn't know that it could do that, as shattered as it already felt.

“You should drink that potion, it'll help your head tomorrow morning.”

He shook his head. “No, I deserve it for being such a coward.”

“Okay. I'll let you have it nonetheless.”

“Thanks.” He sighed, glad that she wasn't forcing him to do anything. Surprisingly, her presence even calmed him a bit, as calm as you could get after watching the love of your life getting married to someone else and then drinking at least three bottles of wine, and probably some other things as well. “She looked happy today.”

Luna nodded. “I guess she is.”

With a sigh, he leaned back, until he was lying on his back. “It should have been me, not _him_. If only I hadn't been such a bloody coward!”

Luna lay down next to him. “You're not a coward.”

“I bloody am, Luna. I could make her really happy, but I was too late to tell her how I feel. Ron maybe is a good man, but he won't be able to keep up with her.”

“You never told anyone?”

He shook his head, sighing deeply. He clearly remembered the moment when he had realised that he was in love with her. It had been an evening long ago, when they had been out for a drink after work, and she had been telling him in her passionate way about the newest special Ministry project she would be heading— something about reforms in wizarding education, starting with Muggle Studies at Hogwarts needing a seriously long overdue update, and then listing everything else, from Muggle relations of the Ministry to more administrative aspects of dealing with the Muggle world. It had been the passion with which she was talking about her newest project, in combination with her flushed cheeks, her sparkling eyes, as well as that work dress that so subtly emphasised her body in the right places. He knew in that moment that he would be lost forever, his heart hers to take. From that day on, he would do all the small things that made her happy, only to see her smile again. He knew, for example, what coffee she liked to drink in the morning, he knew her favourite flowers, listened when she needed someone to talk, or let her drag him along for some shopping because she relied on his opinion and taste; and more often than not, he had paid for it, knowing that although she earned decently enough, she couldn't always afford everything. And there had been close moments, when he had helped her bring her shopping bags inside her flat, that she looked at him as if she had been considering a kiss. He now knew that those would have been the chances he could have told her. Could have. Fucking conditional.

“You're a really good friend, you know that?” she whispered a little later, probably realising that he was getting lost in his memories now.

“It's just not enough with her.”

“I noticed.” She turned her head to look at him. “They haven't noticed it-”

“They're all too busy gloating about that _perfect_ match.” He rubbed his face, starting to feel emotionally drained. “Gryffindors, insensitive to the bone, the whole bloody pack.”

Luna didn't reply to that, it wasn't her place to comment on things others said in their anger and disappointment. “You know, I first noticed something when you called in sick after Harry told you-”

“-about them getting together,” he finished, his voice turning into a low growl. “Yes. I shouldn't have waited then. I'm a fucking coward and an idiot for waiting. Look where I ended up!”

“You're neither a coward, nor an idiot. Love is hard.”

“It is fucking painful.” He sighed. “I feel like I'm at a funeral, you know?”

She nodded, and again watched him for a moment, surely noticing the sadness he had stopped hiding by now.

“You know that I paid for the whole thing? Except for Ron's robes of course...”

“Yes,” Luna replied softly, nodding again. “She told me that you had given her a key to a vault at Gringotts, saying that she deserved the wedding of her dreams.”

“She almost didn't take the key, but I insisted, told her it was my wedding gift. She couldn't say no to that...” He sighed deeply. “Anything that would make her happy. And she looked happy today. I just wish I had been the man she married today...”

“I know.”

“Gods, I'm such an idiot for letting her slip! I should have told her! She still just thinks I'm a really good friend. Hasn't noticed at all that she was basically killing me that day when she came over to my office to show me her engagement ring.” Draco started to feel the urge to punch something, preferably Weasley's face; he had bottled up his emotions for so long, he just had to get them out now, and Luna was a willing listener.

“That must have been awful in that moment.”

“It was. She was all smiling, and happy, and telling me how he had done it. At the Burrow for fuck's sake. That's not really creative, but what can you expect from _that_ Weasley. His brothers have more creativity in their little finger than he could ever have. Merlin, I would have taken her to the country, there's a beautiful spot in Wales that would've been perfect for that. And she tells me everything because I'm such a _good_ friend. I wanted to die in that moment, the way she crushed my heart, but instead I smiled and laughed with her.” He rubbed his temples, as he felt a headache coming, plus he still felt slightly disoriented from the alcohol in his system.

“You were gone for a whole month afterwards.”

He nodded. “I don't remember much, except for being in Southern France. They probably didn't even care about it too much, I guess.”

“She did ask me whether I knew where you'd disappeared to,” she replied softly.

“Bah.” He hid the bed with his fists. “Killing me with an _Avada_ would have hurt less than telling me that she was going to be married to _him_.”

“Death is never a solution.”

“My heart doesn't seem to know that.”

Suddenly there was a faint knocking at the door. Luna signed him to be quiet, that she would deal with it to his great relief; he was in no state to deal with anyone else at the moment. “Who is it?” Luna asked through the door, sounding surprisingly demanding.

“Luna? Is everything okay with him? I saw you drag him out of the ballroom.” It was Hermione, of all people.

Draco groaned. He didn't want to see her anymore.

“I think you had better leave him alone for the moment, Hermione. He's not feeling well right now.”

“He looked miserable all day, I just want to make sure he's okay. Please, let me in.”

“He simply had too much to drink, I'm just making sure that he doesn't get sick. Really, you should leave him alone right now, okay?”

“Please?”

Luna saw that he was starting to curl himself up on the bed, even covering his ears. “No. I'm sorry.”

“What's up?” A male voice now joined Hermione's outside the door, letting Draco wince.

“I'm just checking on Draco, that's all.”

“He's probably just rather pissed, I saw at least three empty bottles on his table.”

“I'm just worried, he has been miserable ever since-”

Luna silenced their discussion with a wisely placed Silencio on his door, then returned to the bed, where he was still lying all curled up. “If you want, we could switch to my room, they might leave you in peace there.” She sat down again, crossing her legs once more.

He shook his head. “Just stay here, make sure they don't come in.”

“I will.”

“Thanks.” He relaxed again a bit, uncurling his legs. “Thanks for listening.”

She nodded, playing with her dress. “You know you can always come to me when you want to talk, okay? Your secret is safe with me.”

He nodded, and sighed again. Merlin, he was exhausted, and his head started to hurt.

“You know that I'm usually not the one giving advice to others,” Luna carefully continued, looking at him with her soft, but piercing eyes, “but I think you should consider the Muggle tradition of Christmas Day, when they apparently tell the truth about things to others. It might help you move on eventually.”

“You think?”

She nodded. “Now, you better drink that potion and get some sleep. I'll make sure that they won't disturb you any further.”

 

 **Christmas Day**  
Christmas Day was two weeks after the wedding. It was even snowing on that day, adding to that romantic feeling everyone expected on that day. Draco had in the time since the wedding recovered quite a bit from his breakdown, and long thought about Luna's advice of finally letting Hermione know. Luna had even come over once to check on him, and had seemed glad to find him sober and less miserable; that evening she even helped him devise a way of telling Hermione.

So that was why he was now standing in front of Hermione's new house in the better part of London, holding a sign in his hands, and feeling rather nervous. He had no idea how she was going to react— he just wanted to let her finally know. Luna had been so nice to check for him whether she would be home on that day, and even more important, whether she had any guests. With a sweaty hand, he finally rang the bell— it was a surprisingly melodic sound— and a few moments later he heard the door being opened.

“Let it be her,” he murmured, a completely nervous wrack in that moment. And to his relief, it was indeed her who opened door; a smile lit up her face when she recognised him.

“Draco! What are you doing here?” she said, sounding surprised and still a bit worried.

“Please, just read, okay?” Breathing in deeply, he tapped the sign in his hand with his wand, and the first part of his message appeared.

“ _Hermione, you're one of my best friends._ ”

“Who is it, 'Mione?”

Draco flinched when he heard Ron's voice, but he didn't care anymore if she did notice or not.

However, Hermione had noticed Draco's reaction, still curious about his intention. “It's just a neighbour asking whether we could check on his flowers after Christmas,” she replied without even blushing. Then she signed to Draco to continue.

He nodded, and tapped the sign again.

“ _That's why I have to tell you this, without any hope or agenda..._ ”

He watched her read the words carefully, confusion rising on her face. Then he tapped the sign again, growing a bit more nervous.

“... _a_ _nd because it is Christmas, a day to tell the truth._ ”

Again, Hermione read the words carefully, and then looked at him, a small warm smile still on her lips.

“ _I wish I had told you earlier, but to me..._ ”

Draco watched her closely, utterly nervous now because the next message would reveal it. Holding his breath, he tapped the sign again.

“ _...you're the one._ ”

Her eyes widened in apprehension when she read those words, but she wasn't yelling at him. Relieved, Draco dared to breathe out, then tapped the sign again.

“ _I love you._ ”

“Oh my God,” Hermione whispered, and looked at him with those warm brown eyes, not hiding the shocked surprise in her face.

“ _I have loved you ever since the evening you told me about that Muggle_ _project._ ”

Draco watched her wipe a tear from her eyes, probably remembering that evening as well when she told him so passionately about her new project. Ignoring the tears in his own eyes, he tapped the sign again.

“ _I will love you when we're old and grey._ ”

She grinned while reading that; it was that smile he wanted to see again, only meant for him. He tapped the sign again.

“ _Always._ ”

And with one last tap, he let the sign change once more.

“ _Because you're perfect._ ”

After another long moment, he let the sign vanish, and put his wand back into his sleeve before wiping his own tears. At least he could claim that it was from the cold.

“Draco...” She came down the few steps from the door, rubbing her arms to keep warm, but still smiling softly. “I never knew. Never even guessed it. I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be. I just want you to be happy, that's all,” he whispered, as his voice didn't allow for more.

She nodded. “Was that why you looked so miserable at the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“I'm so sorry.” And in a sudden urge, she hugged him. “And I'd be sad to lose you as a friend because of that.”

Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her as well for a moment. “You won't,” he replied, still only whispering because he was almost choking on all those stirred-up emotions in him. “But I'm leaving the country for a while, I need some distance...”

“I understand.” She let go again. “Sorry. I shouldn't have hugged you then.”

“Still better than having you shout at me for wanting to destroy your happiness with... _him._ ”

She smiled faintly at his attempt to keep his tact, despite his hurt feelings. “Where are you going? How can I contact you?” She rubbed her arms again— it was cold and she was only wearing a cardigan after all.

He shook his head. “Only Luna is supposed to know. If there is anything you want to let me know in that time, you can tell her, and she will let me know.”

She nodded again. “I understand.” With an embarrassed smile, she wiped another tear from her cheek. “This is goodbye then?”

“This is goodbye, yes. But not forever.”

“I'm going to miss you,” she admitted, her voice reduced to a choked whisper now as well.

He smiled gently. “Just promise me that you're going to be happy in your new life in the meantime.”

She nodded. “Thanks for everything. And I hope you find what you are looking for wherever you're going...”

“Goodbye.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, then smiled one last time before Apparating away.

“Goodbye,” Hermione whispered into the empty street, before going back inside.

 

**END**


End file.
